


making mirrors

by carrionqueen (nightquill)



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Force Training, Murder, Other, Sparring, dark quinn au, force sensitive au, sith acolyte au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 09:57:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6951736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightquill/pseuds/carrionqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>force sensitive sith hunter malavai quinn au.</p>
            </blockquote>





	making mirrors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kingmaking](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kingmaking/gifts).



**one.** when the sith lord comes for him it's dark. they cut the power. he knows that they sense fear, that this is how they'll pinpoint him. he swallows it down and regulates his breathing. if death is coming, he will make them work for it.

**two.** his hands are bandaged and the blood in his mouth may not even be his own. the training has been rigorous, brutal, dark rooms and dozens of adversaries. his body hasn't known such punishment since enlistment. every bruise, every torn muscle screaming out against it gives him strength. the pain is cleansing. hand to hand was never his forte but the training is swiftly becoming his quiet place. the sith behind the mask told him to revel in the fury but quinn finds the quiet moments, in between, and drinks them in.

**three.** the mirror is lying.

**four.** the force does not flow through him. he's too old to train, too set in his ways - and, if he's honest with himself, he's not even sure if he believes in the mysticism. but he does feel it. he's always felt it. his superiors called it intuition but perhaps it was always more than that. he closes his eyes and pushes his palms out, sensing - two sith by the pillar, another acolyte like himself by the door. she is armed, but she is not ready. he takes her first.

**five.** he does not recognize his reflection. he draws the cowl about his face and the shadow it casts is the only thing that is familiar. 

**six.** he is not sith. the one behind the mask reminds him as often as he can, riddles him with guilt - _you're lucky we don't have you gutted like the animal you are._ quinn knows he is an anomaly, and not the good kind. he knows that his new master's word is all that lies between him and death. he buys time in blood and service - the first apprentice he kills, he drags all the way back to the citadel. presents it as a gift. the masked one chokes him without even acknowledging the corpse. quinn will learn from this.

**seven.** the second apprentice he kills is left where they fall. he shadows the authorities as they inspect the body, looking, no doubt, for lightsaber wounds or signs of a force battle. they will find none. quinn doesn't kill like them - that's what makes him so valuable. he's a whisper. he's a poisoned knife.

**eight.** his blue eyes deepen by the day. he swears, in the dark, bent over the refresher and spitting blood into the basin, that he can see them start to glow. 

**nine.** the last is a sith. she clutches at him as she falls, the shock in her eyes more gratifying than a thousand backhanded compliments from lord baras. he lowers her to the ground, barely a smile on his lips, and he feels her life force slipping away. when she is dead, he goes for her children. the line must be eliminated. 

**ten.** his uniform still fits - a little tighter across the shoulders, more restricting than he'd remembered, but it's like coming home. if home was a burnt out wreck of a crashed ship. _i own you._ the voice in his mind is right. this is a debt he can never repay. outside, lord baras' apprentice awaits him. he meets his own eyes in mirror. this time, his reflection speaks the truth.


End file.
